


Everything she is in the dark.

by ripple



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disassociation, F/F, Light Angst, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ripple/pseuds/ripple
Summary: Widowmaker watches Tracer sleep, and contemplates how they ended up here.





	Everything she is in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I stumbled through writing this story at 4am with a ridiculous amount of coffee in my veins. Completely unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> There's a bit of disassociation mentioned in this, with Amélie mentioned as such, so if that makes you uncomfortable in any way, maybe give this fic a miss.

Not for the first time, Widowmaker wonders how she (how _they_) ended up here, sharing a space in a bed. She likes to watch Lena sleep. It's routine. It's peaceful. It's real. She looks different than when she's awake; the woman who never stops moving, finally suspended in motion, if only for a little while.

Lena sleeps on her left side facing Widowmaker, always. On purpose or unconsciously, Widowmaker doesn't know, but she appreciates it nonetheless, because it gives her this. The same view she gets every night, yes, but one she will never tire of. Of Lena in all her glory. Of the way she smiles a bit every so often, or the little furrows of her brow. The barely legible mumbles. And sometimes, the gentle whispers of her old name. Of _Amélie_.

Widowmaker hasn't had many things to call her own in her short life and neither does she really desire a lot. But these, these little stolen moments in the dark with the woman who is her world, the whispers of a name long dead, well. They're her most treasured possessions of all.

Her tired heart beats a lukewarm rhythm in her ribcage. It does that a lot when Lena's around. It should frighten her. It did a little, in the beginning. But like always, Lena was there to keep her afloat before Widowmaker even realised she was drowning again. But she wonders now how she ever lived without this spitfire of a woman in her life. She doesn't think about what might happen if, one day, Lena didn't come back from a mission. She can't think about it, although she knows it's a very real possibility. But right now, in their bed, Lena's here and warm and alive and that's all that matters. The future can be dealt with tomorrow, next week, next year. For now, they were together.

The woman in question shifts in her sleep with a low grumble, dragging Widowmaker from her thoughts and alerting her to the iron grip she has on Lena's hip. She gets little warning before a freckled arm is thrown around her waist and she's tugged much closer to the still sleeping woman, eliminating all the space between them. This close, with her ear pressed up just below Lena's chin, Widowmaker can feel the rapid pulsing of her heart. The anchor, the thing keeping her in this world (keeping her with Widowmaker) sits at the side of the bed, only the very core still attached to her body in the centre of her chest while she dreams. The bright blue light doesn't bother Widowmaker. In fact, she rather likes the way it casts Lena's face in cerulean shadows in the dark - it makes her nightly observations a little easier. And, more importantly, lets her know the device that holds Lena in this world is functioning correctly, and tonight won't be the night she slips away.

Lena knows, of course, about Widowmaker's penchant for watching her sleep. Before they began sharing this room, Lena left her door unlocked at night. Widowmaker never explicitly asked her to, would never have asked something like that of her before they began their relationship. Even now, she is somewhat reluctant to voice her wishes. But like nearly every time before and every time since, Lena knew what she needed anyway. For someone who sped through life as she did, Lena caught all the small details exceedingly well. Questioned about her choice to leave her door unsecured by her fellow Overwatch members, she simply stated it was safer in case of an emergency. If Widowmaker passed the doctor or the cowboy in the hall outside Lena's room once or twice, it was never mentioned.

After months of departures before dawn, Lena had asked Widowmaker if she'd like to share a room, and a larger bed. Sharing the single bed in Lena's quarters had not been ideal, between Widowmaker's long legs and Lena's habit of spreading out in her sleep, it was uncomfortable for both of them. In retrospect, this was where their romantic relationship started. Like nearly everything else between them, it seemed to just occur naturally. It happened without fanfare or any obvious cataclysm. Embraces became tighter. Kisses moved from foreheads to lips. Hands began roaming lower. Lena just rolled with it, taking as little or as much as Widowmaker was willing to give with that ever present smile on her face and laugh in her voice.

Widowmaker doesn't know why Lena chose her. Why this girl with her fiery personality and warm, warm heart chose the woman consumed by ice, cold within and without. No one's ever looked at Widowmaker quite like Lena does, with such unbridled love in her soft brown eyes. She wonders sometimes if Amélie ever felt this way, with Gerard. She supposes it doesn't matter anymore. Because Lena, she loves Widowmaker, and not as a lesser part of Amélie - rather, in addition to her.

Only Lena is allowed to refer to her as Amélie, and only Lena actually understands why. Widowmaker doesn't want to die, not really. But she knows that she would have to, in order for Amélie to fully live again. What they have now is a very fragile agreement of sorts, Widowmaker and Amélie. The woman that was Amélie is still around, fragmented in the deepest recesses of Widowmaker's mind. Talon couldn't snuff her out completely, but oh how they tried. Every now and then, in the company of Lena only, Widowmaker carefully hands over her control to the woman she used to be. Widowmaker knows what she's been entrusted with, knows she owes it to Amélie to be so, so careful who she lets in. 

But something about Lena and Lena alone draws those fractured parts out into the daylight. All of the walls she puts up - all the resistance - just falls away at Lena's feet. Widowmaker thinks Amélie might've loved Lena in life, too. And Lena, she loves this broken version of Amélie, also. But she_ chose_ Widowmaker, chose the woman she was now without a second thought, completely and wholeheartedly and unconditionally. That's what makes all the difference in the world. That's why Widowmaker loves Lena, too.

The sudden touch of a hand on her cheek alerts Widowmaker to Lena's wakefulness, her fingers abruptly stopping their unconscious rubbing of Lena's bare thigh. She pulls away slightly and looks up to see Lena blinking sleepily in the low light provided by her anchor. "_Désolée,_" Widowmaker apologises quietly, "I didn't mean to wake you _ma chérie._" Lena hums around a smile and pecks her gently on the forehead. "You didn't, love, s'okay," she mumbles sleepily. They both know that's a lie, but Lena doesn't seem to care despite the fact they both have to be up for training in just a few hours. Lena tugs Widowmaker a little closer, slipping her hands under the other woman's threadbare nightshirt and running the tips of her warm fingers down Widowmaker's back. It's soothing, for both of them.

Yes, Widowmaker doesn't really know how she and Lena ended up here, sharing a bed - and a life. But when she feels another soft kiss pressed to her forehead accompanied by a mumbled decleration of love, she can't bring herself to regret a thing.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it. I struggle a bit with writing the relationship between these two since Widowmaker is such a complex character with many layers, but I really wanted to give it a go. 
> 
> I think after she left Talon, Widow would've felt adrift. They created her for a purpose, and she no longer served that purpose. Lena was the anchor she needed. I get the feeling their relationship would be very intense, all encompassing. 
> 
> And I wanted to include Amélie also because I feel like she's still in there somewhere. Widowmaker just protects her fiercely, had to while she was still a part of Talon.


End file.
